Basketball Analogies and Second Chances
by MoreThanSimplyWords
Summary: "You see that pitiful, tiny basketball on the floor? That's me." Takes place the morning after "Death Is In the Air." AU.


**A/N: This is my first Psych story. I only started watching this show a couple months ago, which explains why I'm late to the party. :P But hey, season 7 is coming up soon! Anyway, here's an alternate ending to "Death Is In the Air". Thanks for reading!**

* * *

He was staring out the window, thinking of _her _and berating himself for not saying anything, when Gus walked in. He turned around quickly and tried to appear nonchalant. Gus could read him better than anyone, something he was eternally grateful for, but often regretting.

As expected, Gus noticed something was off in the time it took him to walk from the door to the desk. "Are you still obsessing about this Juliet thing?"

He hesitated for only a second. "No." Obsessing would be an overstatement. It wasn't as if he had thought about her every second of the day. There was the moment the abandoned Snickers bar on the counter had distracted him.

But he had dreamed about her, as he did every so often. He had simply walked up to her, kissed her, and for a moment everything was perfect. And then she had pulled away, realizing what she had done, and ran out of the police station, out of the state, and out of his life. The knot of dread he had felt upon awakening was enough to make him call the police station just to make sure she was still there. He had let her voice wash over him and promptly hung up the phone.

"Yes, you are." Gus' voice snapped him back to attention.

He focused on shooting the ball and grimaced when it fell short of the mini-basket ball hoop he had set up. "Gus, don't be an frustrating octopus. My head is perfectly free from all thoughts of Juliet."

Gus snorted, and that was when Shawn lost it. He dropped into his chair.

"Fine. You see that pitiful, tiny basketball on the floor? That's me. Lying short of the mark. And I keep shooting and shooting, but I can't ever make it." He dropped his face into the crook of his arm, muffling his next words. "I almost told her I loved her."

"How many times do I have to tell you that covering your mouth makes it really difficult for other people to hear you?"

Shawn stayed motionless.

"Look, just go do something about it, before you make any more basketball analogies."

He looked up and slowly shook his head. "No can do. I had my chance."

"Since when has that stopped you from taking another one?"

Thoughts of Juliet filled his head - her smile, the occasional glance that spoke so much between them, the night of their 'very close talking', and the way she had looked sitting in that hospital bed. Maybe Gus was right...

He looked up at Gus. "It's now or never, right?"

"Right."

He took a deep breath. "Thanks, buddy."

* * *

He practically ran into the police station, his thoughts a jumble of everything he wanted to say. He scanned the room, but there was no sign of the detective.

"Buzz!"

"Hey, Shawn. What's up?"

"Do you know where Jules went?"

"Yeah, she's on her lunch break."

"I'll give you half of a Snicker's bar if you can tell me where she is."

Buzz thought for a second. "I think she said something about trying that new sandwich place on the boardwalk."

Shawn pulled out the crumpled candy bar and shoved it into Buzz's hands. "Thanks." Within ten seconds, he was out the door.

* * *

He threw open the car door and immediately spotted her just leaving the restaurant. The slight breeze blew wisps of hair off her face and she glanced at the sky for a moment, a hint of a smile on her face. Then she turned away from him and began walking down the boardwalk.

Shawn took off at a run. "Jules." He called, nearing her.

She spun around and looked up, her face showing genuine pleasure, yet with a hint of uncertainty. "Hi, Shawn."

"Jules." All his profound words had seemingly disappeared out the window, and the only word he could think of was her name.

Her brow lowered a little and it made him love her all the more.

"I - uh." He took a breath. "I have to talk to you."

"Okay." She drew the word out.

"About yesterday…" He trailed off, took another breath, and said his next words in a rush. "Sometimes I can't say things. That probably sounds crazy to you because I hear there's a rumor going around that I never shut up, and I'm pretty sure it was started by Gus or Lassie." He focused his gaze on her. "And maybe it is true. But for all my talking, I can't always say the right thing. Not when it really counts. And yesterday, you were possibly the first woman to ever witness that."

He stepped closer to her, taking comfort in the fact that she hadn't stopped him yet. Looking down, he noticed how close their hands were. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to just feel her - to reassure himself that she was alive, well, and standing next to him. He lightly reached out a finger and grazed her hand. Her eyes widened a fraction, but she made no move to pull away.

"You know, it's funny how you can have different words, and they mean nothing by themselves. But as soon as you put them together, they're the hardest words to say."

"Shawn -"

He gently pressed a finger to her lips. "Shh, I'm almost done."

"What I was trying to tell you, Jules, is that -" He closed his eyes. _Do not do this now. You've come too far. Besides, you always hear of second chances, but how often are there third chances? Doesn't have quite the same ring to it._

His eyes flickered open and met her gaze. "I was trying to tell you that I love you."

The hand that was ever-so-lightly brushing his was gone in an instant, leaving a chilly wind in its place. Her eyes were wide, the hand covering her mouth, and no words were coming out.

"I know it's a little sudden and I understand if you don't…feel the same way." His breath caught. He didn't even want to think about that possibility. "But I've been fighting this for years, and seeing you in that hospital yesterday -"

He was cut off by a foreign experience, but one that rivaled every other one in the world. She was kissing him.

His hands went slowly to her waist, and though this was what he had been dreaming about for years, he was still partially in shock.

He was so much in shock that nothing really registered until she pulled away. It snapped him out of the haze that had enveloped him and, more than anything, he wanted to get it back. This was always the part in his dreams where she realized she had made a mistake, and ran far, far away from him.

But she didn't go far. In fact, she was more in the 'very close talking' zone than halfway down the boardwalk.

"Shawn, you smell like pineapple." A grin rested on her lips.

He tightened his grip on her, a happiness unlike any he'd ever felt filling him. "Pineapple scented shampoo, Jules. There is no other way."

"I should have known." She titled her head. "So what made you come running down here anyway?"

"It involved Gus and a basketball anglealuity, or whatever Gus calls it."

"Analogy?"

"I'm leaning more towards anglealutity, but that works too. It was a pretty great one, though. I was the pitiful blue and orange basketball that doesn't even really qualify as a basketball but fit better in my hand compared to the other ones at the store, and you were -"

"Spare me the details."

"But Jules, it's better than it sounds."

She chuckled, leaning in. "Better than this?"

He met her halfway. "No. Definitely not better than this."

After much too short a time, she broke the kiss. "I have to get back. Carlton's going to kill me if I'm gone to long…especially if he finds out I was with you. "

He gave a dramatic sigh. "And you wouldn't want to make Lassie mad, would you?" Suddenly he brightened. "Tonight. You, me, dinner?"

"I'd like that."

"Good. I'll have Gus call you with the details."

Her eyebrows scrunched together an inch.

"Or not. I'll call you."

"That's better."

She stepped closer to him, leaning towards his ear. Her hair tickled his cheek and the scent of peaches surrounded him. "Just so you know," She whispered, "I love you too."

With that, she drew back, smiled, and was driving away before he could comprehend what had happened. Only this time, he wasn't standing completely alone. There was the knowledge that he had finally told her, he had a dinner date with the most beautiful detective he had ever laid eyes on, and most importantly, she loved him. _She loved him._

He was so happy, he danced on the boardwalk.


End file.
